they have no force save when creeping; disinherited, because never, almost
never in this world, do my people reap the harvest they sow, nor eat the fruit they
cultivate. They labor for an abstract idea; they heap together all the atoms of their power, so from a single man; and round this man, with the sweat of their labor, they create a misty halo, which his genius shall, in turn, render a glory gilded with the rays of all the crowns in Christendom. Such is the man you have
beside you, monseigneur. It is to tell you that he has drawn you from the abyss
for a great purpose, to raise you above the powers of the earth—above himself.”
The prince lightly touched Aramis’s arm. “You speak to me,” he said, “of
that religious order whose chief you are. For me, the result of your words is, tha
